Elves Behaving Slashily
by Philosophie88
Summary: Thranduil marries Gil-Galad. Insanity ensues. Galion gets ideas. Elrond gets doused. Lindir rolls his eyes. Celembrimbor and Narvi visit. Oropher gets grandchildren, finally. SLASHity Slash. All in good humor. Sorry Tolkien. I cannot write slash seriously. This is where Legolas get his aptitude for MPREGnancies from. Don't like: Go read my other sane stories.


N.B. I own nothing. Except maybe my own insanity.

Prologue

It was the best of times, it was the slashiest of times in the land of Lindon far away. A certain Noldor king, a.k.a. Gil-Galad, was looking for a bride. But he had a small dilemma; he happened to like males. Like REALLY like them.

So one day, along came the sassiest, most fabulous, handsomest, cutest ellon he ever did see. And to top it off he happened to be a prince.

"What is your name, oh fair one?" he inquired.

"What? Me?" replied the sexy one.

"Yes, you." purred the High King.

"Why do you want to know?" questioned the other elf.

"Because you're gorgeous." Answered Gil-Galad, batting his eyelashes.

The beautiful elf flipped his hair. "And I know it." He said saucily.

Gil-Galad squealed in delight."You're perfect!"

A few days later in the Greenwood, King Oropher the magnificent received a most curious letter.

 _Dear Adar,_

 _So I went to Lindon, like you asked. I brokered a treaty, like you asked. Did the thing, like you asked. And I got married, like you always wanted._

 _Yours truly._

 _Thranduil Bradley_

 _Oropherion_

Oropher could not believe his eyes. Finally, grandchildren. He burst into tears.

After a grand wedding and a thrilling honeymoon, full of multiple orchestrated ballets of sexual strobe lights and swans and glitter- GLITTER EVERYWHERE!-, the leaves outside the window shuttering as their tips touched, Gil-Galad was awakened by a sudden movement on the bed. He rolled over and cracked his eyes open to see his husband running gloriously butt-naked and quite urgently to the bathroom.

"Are you alright, pookie-pie?" he called sleepily, too tired from the previous night's escapade to bother going to his aid.

The only reply came in the form of the sounds of vomiting and gasps of air. After a few moments, in which Gil-Galad had dozed off, Thranduil came staggering out of the bathroom. Upon seeing his lover, the young prince rolled his eyes and poured himself a glass of wine.

"I'm fine, I'm just puking my soul out. Please, go on sleeping, I'm not even bothered." He rolled his eyes again and brought the glass to his lips. Before he could drink though, his brows furrowed as the sour scent of his wine drifted up his nostrils. He made a face and tossed the contents of the glass out the open window, absently noting the outraged cry of Elrond, and grabbed the bottle, cringing again as that sour scent drifted up to his senses. "The wine is bad, Gil! I need wine today! We are supposed to be meeting with Celebrimbor and his short hairy friend and I can't do that sober!

I just can't! This is the literal worst thing that could possibly happen to me!"

As he continued ranting on, tears streaming from his emerald green eyes, Gil-Galad rose, concern written on every feature. "Melethron, pookie, sweetheart, apple of my eye, moon of my stars! Are you feeling okay? I'll send for more wine." He took a moment to summon Galion and bid him bring more wine and some breakfast foods and maybe some of the sweet, sweet Feanorian First-Age porno literature because it looked like Thranduil was out for the count for a while. As the elf ran off, looking very alarmed at the mournful cries coming from inside the royal bedchambers, Gil went to his distraught husband's side. "There, there, my love."

Thranduil snuggled against his broad shoulders as he was patted comfortingly on the back.

"Giiiiiiiiiilllllllll, what, _hiccup hiccup_ , if it's not the wine?" the prince whined tearfully.

"Hush now, dearest, I'm sure it's just the wine," he assured, stealthily picking up the bottle of wine from behind Thranduil and giving it a sniff. His features darkened, not noting anything sour about it, and he silently set it back down, resuming his soothing pats and strokes as Thranduil continued to have a meltdown.

In his arms, his husband cried even harder. "But I LOVE wine, you stupid Noldo Twit! Almost as much as I love you and glitter and you in glitter. Now it smells like balrogs' breath and I can't stand it. What if it's my problem, what if I'm changing cause I married a Noldo ellon and now the Vala are plotting their revenge?" he turned for a minute to glare at his husband through his tears.

Gil-Galad gave a wry smile and shook his head. "I think the Vala have more to worry about than a Sindarin prince marrying a Noldo." He gently ushered Thran back to the bathroom and began to draw him a relaxing bubble bath. "Why don't you just take some time to relax and collect yourself. I'll have all your favorite foods brought up. And when you get out, I'll have a nice new outfit for you to wear so we can show those bitches how fabulous we really are."

Gil was caught by surprised as Thranduil ceased his sobbing, pushed him up against the nearest wall and kissed him senseless. "Hunny-buns, I don't need clothes to be fabulous" he breathed in between smooches. For some totally unknown reason, the bath and everything Gil-Galad had promised was forgotten.

"No, you don't," he replied between kisses, grasping his chiseled butt and gently pulling his long golden hair.

THEN! LOKI SUDDENLY APPEARED! HIS NAKED CHEST RIPPLING WITH EXCITEMENT!

LARA, WE ARE NOT DOING A CROSS OVER WITH SEXY FROST GIANTS! Ok fine -_-

Meanwhile Lindon…

Galion hummed merrily as he carried a flagon of wine and a tray of food along with the newest addition of Beleriand Playellon to the royal chambers. Supposing his master and husband to still be abed he flung the door wide open.

"Breakfast is…" he began to announce.

"OH THRANDUIL!"

The cry came from the bathroom. All of the sudden, a mess of entangled arms and legs and hair tumbled out into the main chambers and Galion cried out in shock, dropping his burden. "Oh my Vala!" Can you two keep it in your pants for two minutes?!".

"Obviously not," Thranduil answered languidly, begrudgingly pausing his love making. "As you can see, plain as day, neither of us are wearing any."

Gil-Galad gave a demure chuckle and pulled his lover back down for a deep kiss.

"Well, carry on then," said Galion sarcastically. "Don't mind me." and he bent to retrieve the scattered items on the floor. "I'll just be here minding my own business." Though he did peak occasionally, questioning how in Arda two ellon could ever get into THAT twisted of a position. He thought about trying it with Lindir. At that he hurriedly deposited the breakfast, wine, and magazine on the bedside table and quickly rushed from the room, Thranduil and Gil-galad still moaning, cussing and going at it like rabbits.

Several sweaty hours later, Thranduil and Gil-Galad had managed to clean and dress themselves for their soon-to-be-arriving guests. As predicted, they were stunningly fabulous and had a sexy glow about them- probably from all the sex. It was radiating off of them like rainbows and starlight.

"Couldn't you two tone it down a bit, your majesties?" asked a moderately disturbed Elrond as he saw the two enter the courtyard to greet the arrivals. He saw the wine being brought out and subconsciously shied away from them, not wanting to have to change again due to another spontaneous wine projectile.

"But we are in love, Rondy!" said the High King jovially. Thranduil ignored him, quickly detaching himself from his husband's side and running toward the wine.

"Oh yes, finally!" He poured himself a glass and brought it up to his nose to savor the fruity aroma that he knew and loved so much. "Ah, heave- WHAT THE FUCK?" Almost immediately he smelled the same putrid smell he had sensed that morning. "AGH." He marched over to his husband.

"What is wrong, pookie?" Asked a concerned Gil-galad.

"The wine. Gil. Smell the wine." He thrust the goblet under his husband's nose.

"Darling," Gil-galad sniffed. "It smells fine."

"AGH." Thranduil, not to be deterred, moved to Elrond, whose eyes widened fearfully. " Smell." he ordered.

"It smells fine, my lord." Stammered the herald.

Thranduil sniffed it again and, gagging, dumped the contents over Elrond's head. "Now so do you, stupid peredhel" he growled.

A giggling Gil-galad moved in to calm his frustrated husband and spared an apologetic smile at his herald. "Now now, melethron, maybe it's just that particular wine that's not agreeing with you. Galion, would you be a dear and bring our prince a nice Dorwinian?"

"Ummm, sire, that is the Dorwinian. Our best, actually" the butler said.

Thranduil's eyes widened for a moment in alarm at this statement, then burst into tears. "Not the Dorwinian." He cried and was reduced to a watery heap on Gil-galad's shoulder. "Something is wrong with me. I can feel it."

Gil-galad cast an anxious glance to the still empty courtyard. "Elrond, you're a healer. Can you deduce what might be wrong? He was wretching as soon as he was conscious this morning. And now this."

Elrond's brow arched radically. Like even more arched than they already are with a straight face. "Well," he began thoughtfully, clearing his eyes of the red drips of wine still falling from his hairline. "Have you considered the possibility of conception?"

Both royals looked at him as if he had grown horns on top of his wine-covered head. In the background Galion snickered to Lindir, "The conception of conception, hehehe, get it?!" Lindir had the good grace to roll his eyes.

The couple looked at each other, agog. "Wh...well… How…" Gil-Galad stammered. Suddenly

realizing his husband might take offense to his speechless shock, he gathered his wits and said, "Well, that would explain a lot. The aversion to wine. The sudden swings of rage and weeping. The…. sexual appetite. Thranduil, love..." He turned to his still dumb struck husband.

Thranduil came out of his trance and closed his eyes. Slowly he brought both hands over his abdomen. "An elfling," he whispered, as if in awe. "I can have an elfling…"

"Possibly," Elrond stated with a shrug. He moved closer to the prince and covered his hands with his, reaching out to feel if he could touch a little fea. Both he and the prince started. Elrond grinned. "That would be a yes."

Thranduil's eyes flew open and he grinned back. Then his visage clouded over. "How long must I be without wine, Elrond? How long?"

 _So this started out as a one shot and then developed into this crazy story. My BFF and I google doc'd this together. We may continue it if we are high enough. ;) Or if enough reviewers want us to..._


End file.
